The Never Ending Story

And his tune is heard On the distant hill For the caged bird Sings of freedom. The free bird thinks of another breeze And the trade winds soft through the sighing trees And the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn And he names the sky his own But a

And his tune is heard On the distant hill For the caged bird Sings of freedom. The free bird thinks of another breeze And the trade winds soft through the sighing trees And the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn And he names the sky his own But a